


i have seen the gods, and they are ruthless

by cherrysalad



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drug Abuse, Friendship, Gen, Underage Drinking, fangs dies for real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 18:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18596563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrysalad/pseuds/cherrysalad
Summary: “You’re gonna survive this,” Fangs promises. “It’s what we do.” Sweet Pea nods, wipes his face on his sleeve and straightens up.





	i have seen the gods, and they are ruthless

When Sweet Pea is fifteen, his mother overdoses. His brother sits him down at the rickety kitchen table and tells him in a very measured, unemotional voice what has happened. He doesn’t meet Sweet Pea’s eyes through the whole speech. 

Sweet Pea takes deep breaths and balls his hands into tight fists underneath the table where his brother can’t see them. He doesn’t cry then, he doesn’t even cry that night when he’s all alone in his room. The walls are thin and he doesn’t want his brother to hear him.

He especially doesn’t cry at her funeral. He spends the whole thing staring vacantly into the distance and gritting his teeth while people clap him on the back and tell him how sorry they are. 

That night he goes over to Fang’s and they’re sitting on the floor playing Blackjack. Fangs looks at him over his cards with sad eyes.

“I know you’re probably sick of hearing this, but I’m really fucking sorry,” he says quietly. It’s so different coming from him. He sounds wounded when he says it, like he feels the same pain Sweet Pea does. Sweet Pea loses it, bawls into his hands, sobs so hard that his body shakes. 

Fangs puts a hand on his back and leaves it there. He doesn’t say anything until Sweet Pea has calmed down a little bit. 

“You’re gonna survive this,” Fangs promises. “It’s what we do.” Sweet Pea nods, wipes his face on his sleeve and straightens up. 

For the next months, he repeats it to himself like an incantation.  _You’re gonna survive this,_ and the days pass and the pain eases (or least gets easier to forget about) and before he knows it he’s done it. He has survived. 

... 

 

When Sweet Pea is seventeen, Fangs is killed. He doesn’t cry when he finds out, he puts his fist through a wall and then he lets Jughead and Toni take him back to the Jones’ trailer. Toni curls up on the couch and weeps into Jughead’s chest while Sweet Pea searches aggressively for something to drink. He finds a bottle of tequila in a cabinet and takes a long swig. 

Fangs’ wordsfrom two years ago swim to the surface of his thoughts,  _you’re gonna survive this, it’s what we do,_ but they feel empty, they don’t do anything thing to dull this kind of pain. He takes another drink from the bottle before joining Toni and Jughead on the couch. Jughead eyes the bottle, but surprisingly stays quiet. 

“You want some?” He offers. Jughead doesn’t respond and Toni hardly manages to shake her head. She looks so small with her knees pulled to her chest and her eyeliner striped down her face. Sweet Pea takes another swig. 

They sit together and they don’t talk. There’s nothing any of them can say to make this better and they all know it. Sweet Pea thought he learned what pain was when his mother died, but now he knows how wrong he was. Real pain feels like this, like having your stomach torn open and your intestines hanging out, raw and vulnerable. 

There’s no stitching up this wound. He pulls Toni to his side and drinks, he just wants the world to fade away. Unconscious is the only escape.

....

 

When he drifts back into consciousness it’s still dark, he’s lying on the Jones’ couch. Jughead’s sitting in an arm chair, the glow of a laptop illuminating his face. Sweet Pea’s head throbs. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” he says, he rolls of the couch and stumbles to the bathroom. Jughead follows. 

Sweet Pea drops to his knees and retches into the toilet bowl. Vomit burns his throat on the way up. He feels Jughead’s cool hand on the nape of his neck and secretly is grateful for it. 

Jughead flushes the toilet for him when he’s done. Sweet Pea’s mouth is bitter.

“You’re okay,” He says. 

“I’m not,” Sweet Pea admits. It feels safe to say here in the private of Jughead’s dark bathroom. He feels his eyes sting with tears and then roll down his face, warm and wet. Jughead kneels beside him. 

“Yeah,” He says. “I’m sorry.” Sweet Pea sobs quietly into his hands. “You will be.” Jughead puts an arm around him. 

“I don’t think so,” Sweet Pea says. “Not this time.”

...

The girl’s voice is soft, distant. It sounds as if Sweet Pea’s hearing it through a thick pane of glass. She has his phone to her ear and her brow is knit in concern.

“Hey,” she says. “Are you a friend of Sweet Pea’s?” A muffled sound from the other end. “I think he’s alright, we’re at a party together and I think he took jingle jangle or something. He’s really out of it.”More muffled talking. The girl gives whoever it is the address, hangs up and slides Sweet Pea’s phone into his jacket pocket. 

“Your friend Toni’s coming to get you.” She pats him on the head and disappears into the party. Sweet Pea closes his eyes and the next thing he knows someone is violently shaking his shoulder. He cracks his eyes open to see Toni and Jughead standing over him. 

“Thank god,” Toni mutters. “You fucking idiot.” She shakes her head at him. Jughead clamps a hand over her shoulder and gives her a look. 

“We’re gonna take you home, okay?” Sweet Pea’s never heard Jughead’s voice be so gentle 

Home turns out to be Jughead’s trailer, which is probably a good thing because Sweet Pea doesn’t even want to think about what his brother would do if he came home this fucked up. They help him through the door of the trailer and on to the couch. 

Jughead gets him a glass of water while Toni sits with his head in her lap. She brushes her fingers through his hair. They’re cool against his scalp. He thinks he can remember his mother doing this when he was very young. He closes his eyes and pretends he’s a little kid again. 

“Hey,” Jughead’s voice breaks the spell. “You should drink this.” If Sweet Pea wasn’t so out of it he would tell Jughead to fuck off and stop telling him what to do, but he lets Toni prop him up and when Jughead holds the glass to his lips he takes a long sip. 

... 

Sweet Pea wakes up in the morning with his entire body aching. He struggles to sit up. 

“Morning,” Jughead says from his arm chair. “How you feeling?” 

“Like shit,” Sweet Pea says hoarsely. 

“Hungry?” Jughead asks. Sweet Pea shakes his head. 

“Is Toni here?” 

“She went home.” There’s a long uncomfortable moment of silence. “So, I don’t really know what to say,” Jughead tells him. 

“You don’t need to say anything,” Sweet Pea mutters, shakily standing up. 

“Well someone does,” Jughead says. “Because this is not fucking healthy. You’re constantly high or drunk and you refuse talk to anyone about it.”

“It’s none of your business,” Sweet Pea sniffs, he’s walking towards the door of the trailer. Jughead stands up and follows him outside. The morning air is cool against Sweet Pea’s skin. 

“It is my business,” Jughead says. Sweet Pea pulls a cigarette from the crushed pack in his pocket, presses it between his lips and lights it. Jughead glares. “That’s terrible for you, you know.“ 

“Oh fuck off.” 

“You need to stop this self destructive behavior,” Jughead says. 

“I don’t give a shit what you want me to do,” Sweet Pea spits. 

“What about what Toni wants. What about what Fangs would’ve wanted?” Jughead says.

“Don’t you talk about what Fangs would’ve wanted. You don’t know shit, Jones,” he says with as much venom as he can manage. 

“I didn’t know Fangs like you did,” Jughead says, infuriatingly calm. “But I know he cared about you, and I know he’d want you to take better care of yourself than this.” It feels like getting punched in the gut, but only because he’s right. He sighs, closes his eyes and leans back against the trailer.

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” he confesses. 

“I wish I could tell you I did,” Jughead says. “I guess the only way to move forward is to put one foot in front of the other and keep going until you get somewhere.” 

“That’s not very helpful.” Sweet Pea frowns.

“I know.” Jughead replies. “But I think you’ll make it through this. If there’s one thing serpents are good at, it’s surviving.”

“Maybe I’m tired of surviving,” Sweet Pea says quietly.

“Yeah.” Jughead smiles sadly. “But what else are you gonna do?” Sweet Pea stares at him a moment, sighs and slings an arm over his shoulders. He drops his cigarette on the ground and crushes it beneath the toe of his boot.


End file.
